


It's Thursday and I'm Reasonably Fond of You

by bonspiel



Category: CW Network RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-18 16:45:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonspiel/pseuds/bonspiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The summer after Jared graduates from high school is supposed to be perfect - even his mom's going to Australia for two months. But then she hires a Patton of a babysitter, who promptly keels over dead with the money their mom left for the summer. Suddenly Jared has a real job at a video game company, and between trying to keep his brothers and sister from all killing each other, he's spending a lot of time with a cute pizza delivery guy. Oh yeah, did he mention his boss thinks he's 22 rather than 18, and his siblings have used up the last of the company petty cash buying pot, swim gear, and college-level math books, respectively? A J2 retelling of <em>Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Thursday and I'm Reasonably Fond of You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [spn_cinema](http://spn-cinema.livejournal.com/) and originally posted 11/11/11 to LJ/DW. _Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead_ was written by Neil Landau and directed by Stephen Herek. My pastiche is written in affection and no infringement is intended. Title is mine, with apologies to The Cure.

_Welcome, lovely reader! Our tale begins in the last days of the previous century, aka the late '90s (post-Internet, pre-Twitter). You find yourself in the midst of leafy, humid Austin, Texas, where our hero strides onto the scene. His name is Jared Padalecki, and to be honest he's not much of a hero yet - but that's teenagers for you. He is tall, and handsome in a gangly way, and possessed of a kind heart and sharp brain underneath all of the eighteen-year-old boy bluster, as this tale will illustrate. Please gather round and gaze down at our first scene, where Jared and his friends are celebrating the end of the school year._

*/*/*/*

"I'm so glad school's over. Absolutely nothing to do until college starts in August," Chris said.

"You suck. My dad says I have to get a part-time job, that he's not giving me any gas money or allowance any more, now that I'm 18," Aldis replied.

"Sucks to be you, dude," Chris said. "What about you, Jared?"

Jared looked over from where he was flipping through the used Playstation games. They visited the GameStop at least a couple times a week, hoping that someone had traded in something new and good. Usually it was the same old crap, half of it things that they'd brought in themselves for store credit. "I've got the whole summer to myself. I'm gonna be able to do whatever I want. My mom's even going off to Australia for some work thing for a while."

"She's leaving you all alone?"

"Yeah, guess so. We're old enough now, I guess," Jared said. "Oh, dude! Gran Turismo." They all gathered round, fighting over who was going to get to take the game home first. Yeah, this summer was gonna be epic. No classes, no homework, no alarm clock…

*/*/*/*

_Alas, esteemed reader, Jared's summer won't be quite as mellow as he's imagining. But then, you were probably guessing that already. Let's jump ahead a few days, to when the fun really starts._  
*/*/*/*

"Son of a…"

Jared raised an eyebrow at his mom's abbreviated cursing from the upstairs of their old house. Sounded like packing wasn't going that well. Jared and his younger siblings had given her a hard time at dinner last night when she'd confessed that she hadn't started packing yet. She'd been muttering up there all morning. Jared settled more comfortably on the battered sofa and continued playing Gran Turismo. Chris had finally handed it over, and Jared planned to play it as much as possible until he had to give it to Aldis in a week. A few minutes later, he could hear his mom's phone ring, followed by a murmured conversation and then a loud "fuck!" "Jared?", she called down.

"Yeah, mom?"

"Can you pick your sister up from swim class?"

"You forgot your own daughter?," Jared couldn't help but taunt her.

"Shut up. Margery was supposed to drive them, but Elise got sick," his mom said, walking down the stairs.

Jared paused the game and swiveled to look at her. "Can I take your car?"

"No," she answered. "You're still on your learners' permit, and besides, Joyce picked it up earlier this morning. I told her she and Dan could use it for their trip, you remember, since I'm going to be out of town for a while, and you guys don't need it."

"Why can't you go?", he whined. "It was *hot* out, and if he couldn't drive, he'd have to take the bus - hot and sllllloooow - or ride his bike.

"I've got stuff to do," his mom replied.

"You aren't packed *yet*?"

"Shut up, devil child," she said, with an affectionate swat to the back of his head, "and go get your sister. My cab to the airport leaves at 4."

Jared shut down the game console and walked to the side of the house, where he grabbed his bike.

By the time he got back from the 2-mile trip to the municipal pool, a damp Sierra sitting on the handlebars of his bike, Colin was being dropped off from his first day at summer camp (a.k.a Genius Camp, as Jared and his other brother, Brock, had dubbed it).

"Did you have a good day, Colin?," Sierra asked. Colin replied with a bunch of words which Jared suspected weren't even English, and Jared rolled his eyes and went to change his sweaty shirt. It was only early June, but Austin was already well into its long hot summer.

Jared's mom clattered down the stairs with her overstuffed luggage about the time a knock came on the door. Jared went to go answer it, since his mom was talking to his brother and sister about something or other. On the other side of the door was a hideous witch - OK, she was just an old lady, but man, she was ugly. "Can I help you?"

"Hello, dear," the witch said. (Seriously, she had a wart on her nose and everything.) "I'm Mrs. Crabapple. I'm the babysitter."

_Babysitter? Oh hell no._

The argument Jared had gotten into with his mom had been short and pointless. (Jared: "We don't need no stinkin' babysitter. I'm 18!" Mom: "blah blah blah I'm the mom do what I say.") Then the cab scheduled to take his mom to the airport had pulled up into the driveway and honked, and she'd grabbed her luggage and made a run for it, after a short conversation with the witch, er, babysitter.

Typical for him, Brock turned up just as their mom was leaving with a bunch of his stoner friends. They waved and Jared rolled his eyes and headed back to the living room to play his game. The babysitter could wrangle the little kids all she wanted; he was practically an adult and could take care of himself.

Ten minutes later, a piercing whistle echoed throughout the house and the TV (and all the lights in the house) went dead. Was the babysitter yelling "report for duty?"

*/*/*/* __

_Treasured reader, may I be frank? Mrs. Crabapple is a bit of a bitch. She's not one of those old ladies who looks mean but is secretly a cookie-baking grandma. No, she's just mean, is the sad truth of it. There's a reason for it; a whole lifetime of them, to be honest. But just because you've lost your family doesn't mean you can verbally torture other people's children, does it?_

*/*/*/*

"Jared, you gotta talk to the babysitter. She's driving all of us crazy," Brock said. He, Colin and Sierra looked at Jared expectantly.

"Why do I have to do it?", Jared complained.

"'Cause you're the oldest," Brock said," and even if she's tiny and ancient, she's fuckin' scary."

"Don't say fuck in front of the kids," Jared said.

"I can say fuck if I fuckin' want to; Mom's not here," Brock said. "Fuck fuck fuck."

"Fuckin' right," Sierra agreed solemnly.

The three boys cracked up at the little girl's serious tone. "What, it wasn't that funny," she protested.

"Boys will never like you if you curse all the time," Colin said ominously, frowning.

"Boys are yucky," Sierra replied. "Who cares?"

"You will, when you're a spinster," Colin pronounced.

"OK, Gloria Steinem and Miss Manners, cut it out," Brock said. "Seriously, Jared, you gotta do something. She took away my iPod because she said wearing headphones is impolite, she yelled at Colin for reading too much, and she won't let Sierra watch swimming because 'proper ladies don't display themselves dressed so scandalously in public.'"

"I missed the Southern California under-18 spring regionals," Sierra agreed.

"And she made us watch the Jesus channel when Brian Greene was on Nova," Colin complained.

"OK, OK," Jared said. "I'll talk to her."

"Be firm, be reasonable," he muttered to himself, standing in front of the guest room door. "Firm, reasonable."

He knocked, and when he didn't hear a response, he eased open the door. "Mrs. Crabapple?", he called. "Hello?"

He ventured into the room, and saw that the TV was turned on, its light reflecting off the profile of Mrs. Crabapple's face. "Mrs. Crabapple, I have to talk to you."

When there was still no response, Jared started to get angry. "Listen, I know my mom left you in charge, but that doesn't mean you can tell us to do whatever you want. Our mom doesn't limit our TV or tell us what to wear (OK, that wasn't quite true, Jared thought to himself, but she wasn't a Nazi like this old biddy), and we…. We're not gonna let you do it either," he ended defiantly.

Mrs. Crabapple didn't move a muscle after his proclamation. "Listen, you can't just ignore me when I'm standing right here. Talk about rude!" He reached out and shook Mrs. Crabapple's shoulder, and she slumped forward in the chair. "Holy shit!"

~

All the lights in the room were blazing as the four siblings stared at the body of Mrs. Crabapple. Sierra reached out and poked her finger into Mrs. Crabapple's collarbone.

"Quit it," Jared said, swatting her hand away.

"What are we going to do?", Colin asked.

"Call 911, I guess," Jared said.

"Wait, if an ambulance comes and they find out we're here without an adult, what are they gonna do?," Brock replied. He answered his own question."They'll call mom, and then her trip is ruined, and our summer is ruined. We can take care of ourselves."

"We've got a dead old lady in our guest room," Jared retorted. "What're we gonna do, just leave her here?"

"No, man, we'll drop her off at a funeral home or something, they can bury her."

"What if they think we killed her or something?", Colin pointed out.

"She's like a billion years old," Brock retorted. "Old people die of natural causes all the time."

In the end, they pinned a note to Mrs. Crabapple's sweater, penned in Colin's neat hand; "Nice old lady, died of natural causes," and awkwardly hauled her through the house into the gigantic trunk of Mrs. Crabapple's old Cadillac. They rolled quietly into the alley behind a nearby funeral home and dropped her off.

Across town, the two overnight employees of Barker's funeral home were starting their workdays.

"Hey, Joe?"

"You lost the bet, man, I'm not falling for any of your shit. Just take the trash out and get it over with," Joe replied to Dustin, not looking over from where he was playing Texas hold-em on the rickety old computer. He could feel the warm summer air coming in through the back door that Dustin had left open. He cursed as the computer's river ruined the straight he was hoping for.

"No, man, there's something out here," Dustin said.

"Probably just a squirrel or something."

"It's hella bigger than a squirrel, man," Dustin said insistently.

Joe clicked out of the poker game - he was losing anyway - and levered himself out of the creaky old chair.

Ten minutes later, they were staring down at the body of a little old lady that had died of natural causes - or at least, that was what the note pinned to her sweater said. She'd been rolled in a woolen blanket, her shoes still on. The professional embalmer part of Joe's brain assessed her automatically - she hadn't just died, but she hadn't been lying around for days, either; the body still had rigor.

"I guess," Joe said slowly, "we should call the cops."

"Fuck no, man," Dustin said.

"You didn't do anything," Joe said. "Happening to find a dead old lady isn't a parole violation."

"You haven't met my parole officer," Dustin muttered darkly. He was poking around the body.

"Quit it."

Dustin ignored him, opening up the old-fashioned purse that was near the woman's body.

They were both stunned when they found the purse was full of money. "This's gotta be a few thousand, man. All small bills," Dustin said.  
And that's how Mrs. Crabapple ended up in a nice plot in a cemetery with a made-up name on her tombstone. Joe and Dustin might have been, respectively, a gambler and a pothead, who used most of the money in her purse to bet on dogs and pay off dealers, but they held her memory in affection. They visited her grave often. Not a horrible end for an unpleasant woman.

*/*/*/* __

_Darling reader, the next few days were idyllic ones for the Padalecki children. Allow me to draw a scene: imagine a montage, a poppy song playing while Jared played video games for 14 hours straight, Colin stayed up all night reading (a primer on game theory), Brock and his friends smoked entirely too much pot, and Sienna spent all day in her swim togs without anyone telling her to put real clothes on._

_Alas, this prelapsarian fantasy could not continue forever, especially at the rate they were eating all the food in the house. So Jared agreed to take Mrs. Crabpple's old car and go grocery shopping. But that was the moment when he realized all the money his mom had left was no longer in the manila envelope. They tore through the house like tornadoes, turning out drawers and rifling through the guest room and Mrs. Crabapple's belongings. But the money was nowhere to be found._  
  
*/*/*/*

The four kids stood around the kitchen table. Jared frowned at the small pile of money that they'd amassed. Brock started to count it, smoothing out the crinkled bills. "What is this, man?," he said, holding up a crumpled piece of paper

"Oh, sorry, that was my notes from a lecture," Colin replied.

Brock went to throw the paper into the trash.

"Hey, watch it," Colin said, and grabbed for it. "That's important."

"Why was it shoved in your pocket with the lint, then?", Brock asked. He grabbed the paper again and held it over his head, Colin dancing around him trying to grab it.

"Cut it out," Jared said. He snagged the paper from Brock's hand and handed it to Colin, who promptly moved to the other side of the table out of Brock's reach. "Anyone have any more money hiding anywhere?", Jared asked.

"I might have a little in my piggy bank," Sierra piped up. "But I raided it last time I needed new goggles."

"What part of 'all the money you have' did you not understand?", Brock snarked.

"Go see, please," Jared said, smacking his brother on the shoulder. "We need it all."

A few minutes later, after Sierra had returned with the paltry change in her piggy bank, Brock started counting again. Colin rolled his eyes at his brother's slowness and shoved him aside to take over the task himself.

"One hundred forty-two dollars and eighty-nine cents," Colin declared.

"That's a lot of money," Sierra said.

"Not really," Colin replied. "Not for food and stuff. Last time I helped Mom with the groceries she spent two hundred dollars."

Jared frowned. Colin was right. A hundred and forty bucks might last the four of them a couple of weeks, if they didn't eat out and used up all the food in the pantry, but that was the best he could hope for. "If we're not gonna call Mom," Jared said slowly.

"And we're fuckin' not," Brock said, glaring at him.

"Somebody's gonna have to get a job," Jared finished his sentence. "You or me, the kids are too young."

"Not it," Brock said instantly.

"No way," Jared replied.

"What?", Brock said innocently. "Someone's gonna have to look after Colin and Sierra, and you're older anyway, you can get a better job than me."

"Rock-paper-scissors," Jared proposed.

"Fine, whatever."

They faced off against each other. Brock threw rock and Jared threw scissors.

"Fuck," Jared said.

"Deal's a deal, bro," Brock said.

"OK, I'll look for a job tomorrow, but you can't just sit on your ass all summer. You're gonna have to cook, clean, make sure Sierra gets to swim practice and Colin gets to summer school," Jared said.

Brock rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

*/*/*/*  
 _  
So, dear reader, our hero finds himself and his siblings in a bit of a fix. He's currently wishing he'd been an only child, but don't worry, he doesn't really mean it. What is our hero going to do? Why, what true heroes always do - gird their loins and stride into battle (metaphorically speaking, in this case)._

*/*/*/*

The first few places Jared tried aren't hiring. He started to get a little depressed, so he decided to get lunch before continuing. Then it's like the gods are smiling on him, because the pizza place he stops at has a Help Wanted sign in the window. So it's not glamorous, but it'll be fine. He likes eating pizza, and making it can't be that bad, right?

Turns out it is that bad, and worse. He's got cheese under his fingernails and his clothes smell like grease and pepperoni. At least his coworkers seem pretty cool, especially a guy named Jensen who's one of the delivery drivers and one of the most gorgeous people Jared's ever seen in real life (especially when he smiles at Jared when being introduced). But Jensen's out delivering orders most of the time, and that leaves Jared alone with Milo, who apparently never speaks, and the manager Kripke, who's so enthusiastic about pizza and pizza making it's beyond ridiculous.

*/*/*/* __

_Gentle reader: did you catch the introduction of the love interest, Jensen Ackles? Of course you did; you're quite perspicacious. He's dreamy, isn't he? What do you say, he hasn't said much yet? Yes, he's a bit shy like that, until he gets to know you. Trust me, he's totally swoon-worthy; you'll see._

*/*/*/*

Jared let the back door slam behind him and let out a frustrated curse as soon as it closed. From further down the alley behind the pizza place there was a chuckle, and Jared looked over to see Jensen, the quiet delivery guy, leaning against the wall and holding a phone up in one hand.

"Kripke gettin' to ya?", he asked, and pressed a button on the phone, sliding it back into the pocket of his jeans.

"Is he always this manic about pizza? I mean, Jesus, I'm a teenage boy, I love food, but his obsession is out of control," Jared said.

"Yeah, he loves this place, that's for sure," Jensen agreed. They were quiet for a few moments.

"You worked here long?", Jared asked.

"Three years now," Jensen said. "Since I moved out here for school."

"How can you stand it?"

Jensen took a moment to reply. "The first summer I had your job, and I was about to quit when one of his delivery guys bailed and I started doing that. It's not bad, and the tips help pay for my car."

"Lucky," Jared replied. "Last night I washed my hair three times, and it still smelled like tomato sauce."

Jensen chuckled. "You'll get used to it."

The loud call of 'order up' could be heard through the door, and Jensen straightened up. "Duty calls," he noted, and headed back inside.

With a sigh, Jared took one last breath of non-pizza-scented air, and followed Jensen back through the door.

*/*/*/*  
 _  
Beloved reader, I have to report that unfortunately, Jared's heroism just didn't stretch to scraping the burnt cheese off the top of the still quite hot pizza oven. A few days later, he'd taken all he could take from Kripke and his pizza-making mania. He threw down his sponge and his apron and quit, waving to Jensen, who'd just gotten back from a delivery, as he went. Alas, the road of heroism is rarely smooth._

*/*/*/*

Jared closed the front door with a sigh and walked into the living room. Colin was at the dining room table with an open book and his laptop in front of him, and he didn't even look up at Jared's "hey."

He heard the thunder of feet down the stairs, and before he came into sight, Brock was calling, "you come home with pizza?" He appeared, feet first, followed by his friend Jose, a dark-eyed guy in Brock's class who'd never said more than three words in a row to Jared. Bringing up the rear was Finn, another one of Brock's friends who had red hair and in comparison to Jose, never shut up. The grassy smell of pot followed them down the stairs.

"I quit my job," Jared declared.

"What the fuck for?"

"Because it sucked," Jared said. "I think that manager is actually mental, like should be hospitalized mental."

Brock rolled his eyes. "Whatever. So no pizza then?"

"No, no pizza." *Glad my brother's taking my employment issues seriously.*

"Let's go get burgers, man, I totally got the munchies," Finn said.

"Yeah, burgers sound good," Brock said, and the three musketeers headed toward the door. "You gotta get another job, dude, you know," Brock called as he left.

"Fuck off," Jared yelled back. Bitch of it was, Brock was right. The last of the cash from his last payday wasn't going to last much longer. He was gonna end up working at a greasy taco stand, he just knew it. He sighed, heading to the fridge for a Coke, but all that was left was the empty paper box. He crumpled up the cardboard and threw it into the trash angrily, and then poured himself a glass of water.

"So you need a job?," Colin asked, breaking the silence. Jared hadn't even realized Colin had paid any attention to Jared and Brock's conversation - usually when Colin was in the middle of something, bombs could explode by his head and he'd totally ignore them. A couple years ago he'd totally missed one of Sierra's temper tantrums in the car because he'd been reading a book. Five minutes after their mom had gone from 'don't make me pull this car over' to actually pulling the car over, Colin had looked up from his book, blinked, and asked why they'd stopped.

"Yeah, but don't worry about it," Jared said. "I'm sure there's some fast food place hiring."

"But you hated working at the pizza place," Colin pointed out.

He sounded worried, and Jared had to smile at his serious tone. He shrugged. "There's not a lot else out there right now."

"Have you checked the online job sites?"

"Isn't that for like real jobs and stuff?"

"Compared to what, fake jobs?"

"You know what I mean," Jared replied. "Office jobs and stuff, stuff you need a degree for."

"Nah, they've got some of everything online. Get with the times, bro."

Jared took a seat at the kitchen table, and his brother pulled out the laptop he had gotten for winning a 'Young Scientist' competition last year.

"Hey, what about this? 'Software testers wanted. Must have experience with video games, particularly first-person shooters.'," Colin read.

"No shit? You can get paid to play video games?" Jared leaned over to read the screen of Colin's laptop. His stomach dropped as he read further. "Fuck. 'College degree preferred; minimum requirement completed one year college courses.'"

Colin shrugged. "Pad your resume a little, say you took some community college courses or something. They'll never know. Like they'll check your references for a job where you play video games."

"Resume? I guess I would need one of those," Jared said.

"You don't have a resume? I do, and I'm only 14. Well, it's more of a curriculum vitae, but you're not an academic, you don't need one of those."

"That's because you're a supergenius prodigy or something."

Colin rolled his eyes. "It's easy. There are all kinds of websites out there with resume examples and stuff." He typed and clicked for a few moments. "Here. And I'll even let you use my laptop to write it. It's late anyway. We're starting a section on fluid dynamics tomorrow, should be sharp for that."

Jared squeezed Colin's shoulder as his brother moved to get up from the table. "Thanks, man."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't wreck my laptop."

"Of course."

"I mean it, Jared. No food, no drink, no video games, and put it in my backpack when you're done," Colin lectured him. "I've studied the most efficient way to dissect the human body, you know."

As Colin's footsteps retreated down the hall, Jared let out the shiver he'd been repressing. Knowing his weirdo brother, he probably *had* studied human dissection. He pulled the laptop gently toward him. "OK, baby, let's write me a resume."

Four hours later, he rubbed his eyes tiredly. Done! OK, he might have borrowed some text from the resume website and padded his experience a bit, but a resume wasn't a place to be humble, right? If he could spend the summer playing video games for money rather than getting mozzarella crusted under his fingernails, it would be worth a few white lies. He had no idea how to print, so he left a post-it note on the laptop asking Colin to print him a copy before he left for summer camp in the morning. He went upstairs and collapsed on his bed. When he woke up, the rising heat told him he'd slept in. There was a pile of paper on his bedside table, topped with a note from Colin: "Fixed your spelling, you illiterate. They're only taking applications through today, so get your ass down there ASAP. P.S. Don't wear jeans."

Jared checked the time on his phone and cursed. It was after noon. He better get a shower and get downtown before all the jobs at this place got taken.

~

After a thoroughly unpleasant encounter with a bitchy receptionist, Jared was more depressed than ever. He'd worn slacks for this?  
Jared had retreated to the far edge of the reception area, waiting for the elevator to arrive. He heard someone speak behind him and turned. The man was middle-aged with a dark beard shot through with silver that made him look like a lumberjack.

"Dammit, where's Danneel?," the man said.

"Always frowning, looks like she could shoot fire from her eyes?" God, Jared *really* needed to learn to think before he spoke.

Thankfully, the man laughed. "Yeah, that's her."

"She, uh, just left her desk," Jared said. "I'm sure she'll be right back."

The man nodded. "Thanks."

Jared took a breath. Hell, what could it hurt, right? "I'm Jared, I'm applying for a tester job," he said, and offered the other man a handshake. He shook, saying, "Nice to meet you, Jared, I'm Jeff. Is that your resume?"

Jared looked down at the pages clutched in his left hand. "Uh, yeah. Here." He offered a copy to the other man, who took it.

"You just graduated?," Jeff asked.

"Um, yeah," Jared replied. _What, it was true. From high school rather than college, like his doctored resume said, but still. His mom always said he looked old for his age._

"This is great, Jared," Jeff said after a minute of reading the page. "You're like an answer to prayer. With this resume you don't want to be a tester. Listen, how'd you like a position as an associate project manager. They've been wanting me to hire this guy over in Ops. Nice guy, great with computers but he's ridiculously shy, can't even talk to people without stuttering. I can just tell my boss that I went outside the company to hire, they'll never know."

Jared blinked. He didn't know anything about project management, but he was an organized guy, always ended up heading group projects at school, that kind of thing. It's just common sense, right? "Uh, OK. Sure, why not." He gave Jeff a grin that was a little wobbly around the edges.

"Excellent. Come back on Monday, you can start then if that's OK."

*/*/*/*  
 _  
Precious reader, you will have gathered that Jared is entering a new phase in his adventure. It involves such mysterious items as fax machines, TPS reports, and the monthly birthday celebration in the break room. Excitement all 'round!_

*/*/*/*

At the office, Jeff introduced Jared to a bewildering array of people, ending with a sad-eyed guy named Fred who apparently ran the rendering team. For some reason Fred reminded Jared of a more emo version of his high school principal. Jared waved at Fred as they left his clump of cubicles, and Fred waved back.

Jared thought he was doing a pretty good job figuring stuff out, but when Jeff asked him to make handouts of some slides for an upcoming meeting, he'd gotten a little stuck. He'd finally figured how to print and where the printer actually was, after roaming around the floor for a few minutes trying to stealth-spy a printer. But when he got to the copier in the break room he was stymied. No matter what he pressed the damn thing wouldn't copy. He even tried turning it off and on, but it still just gave him an error message.

"Is your code not working?," a petite dark-haired girl asked from his side, causing him to jump.

"Code?," Jared asked dumbly after he'd recovered from the surprise.

"Yeah, there's a code for every department, so they can bill us all correctly, but they're always changing them and forgetting to tell people. Here, use mine." She quickly pressed in a series of numbers, and the machine started up.

"Hey, thanks," Jared said.

"No problem. This thing's a little picky. What are you trying to do?"

"Um. 20 copies of these slides for a meeting." Jared waved the sheaf of papers.

"Stapled?," the girl asked, grabbing the papers and putting them in a slot on top of the copier.

"Uh, sure," Jared said.

"OK, 20 copies, collated, stapled upper right since they're landscape," she said softly as she pressed buttons on the copier. "Voila." The copier lumbered into action, and what seemed like only seconds later Jared had a neat stack of stapled sheets in his hands.

"Thank you so much," Jared said. Who knew office equipment was that complicated?

"No problem. You new? I'm Sandy," the girl said.

"Yes. Hi, I'm Jared. The new project manager on Jeff's team?"

"Oh, awesome. I'm Misha Collins's assistant, he's the VP of sales. Listen, he's on the road right now, but he always tries to do everything himself, so I'm not that busy. He's such a control freak, apparently no one else can do anything the precisely correct way. So if you need some help with anything, just let me know. I know, it's hard getting up to speed when you're new."

Jared returned to his desk not only with neatly collated slides, but a new friend and some hope for getting out of the avalanche of work that Jeff had dumped on his desk.

After his first day, Jared took all the kids out to dinner at Senor Pete's to celebrate. "Associate project manager, dude," he said to Brock. 60 K a year, my own desk, and a really fast computer with an awesome flat-screen."

"Too bad you don't know anything about project management," Brock replied, kicking his brother's leg under the table.

"I'll figure it out. How hard can it be?", Jared retorted, and kicked Brock back.

"Dude, you're gonna *drown*," Brock replied with relish.

Jared rolled his eyes at his brother.

*/*/*/*  
 _  
Sadly, precious reader, the end of the celebratory evening out didn't go so well. Some juvenile delinquents in drag (long story for another day, dearie) stole Mrs. Crabapple's Cadillac to go joy-riding, and the Padalecki clan find themselves without a ride home._

*/*/*/*

"Call the cops," Colin suggested.

"We can't do that, pipsqueak. It's the babysitter's car; how would we explain that she's not around?" Brock said.

"I'm cold," Sierra whined.

Jared took off his hoodie and wrapped her in it. He pulled out his phone, then cursed. Aldis and Chris were off in Mexico with Chris's family, and none of the rest of his friends had cars. They could take the bus home, but they were all the way across town from home, and he only had five bucks after everyone had devoured dinner, not enough for four bus passes.

He thumbed through his contact list. Jensen, the contact said. Should he? Well, the dude must have a car, since he delivered pizzas, and he'd given his number to Jared the day before Jared had quit Kripke's. "Just in case," Jensen had said, and then cleared his throat and gone out on a delivery. OK, here goes nothing.

~

Jared was swinging Sierra around as she clung to his hands when he heard the low rumble of a classic car. The black sedan, silver under the lights of the parking lot, pulled smoothly into a space away from the brightly lit entrance to the Mexican joint. He set Sierra down. "Time to go, guys," he called.

Brock had been kicking a rock around the lot, and Colin was trying to read his ever-present book under the weak light of a sodium lamp. Brock looked up with a scowl that faded as he caught a glimpse of Jensen's car. "Dude, is that yours?," he asked Jensen, who was opening his door and standing up.

"Yeah," Jensen replied, glancing past Brock at Jared and smiling. "Hey." It was *ridiculous* how good Jensen looked in the black t-shirt from the pizza place, the logo for Kripke's Pizza Pies stretching across his chest, Jared thought.

"Sweet," Brock confirmed, walking around the car. "'67 Impala?"

"Yup," Jensen agreed. "My dad and I fixed her up."

Jensen and Brock spent the rest of the ride home car geeking together, while Jared tried to mediate between Sierra and Colin, who were both tired and fighting with each other. Not exactly what Jared had hoped for for the next time he saw Jensen.

Brock, Sierra and Colin piled out of the back seat as soon as Jensen stopped the car in the rutted driveway of the Padalecki house. Jared went to get out himself, but paused when Jensen reached out a hand and closed it around his arm. "Your new job going OK?," he asked.

"So far so good," Jared answered.

"Good," Jensen said. "I miss seeing your face around Kripke's, though. I'm glad you called."

"Just my face?", Jared joked, feeling awkward as he said it.

"Maybe the rest of you too," Jensen said, and squeezed his arm before letting go. "Listen, would you like to… well, there's this thing where turtles come back to this one river to mate, and I've never seen it. Come with me?"

"Yeah, OK," Jared agreed. _Turtles_?

"Great," Jensen said, and cleared his throat. "I'll call you?"

Jared started to speak, but was interrupted by loud banging coming from the house. "Jared, Sierra and Brock are fighting over the last Ding-Dong," Colin called from the doorway.

"I better go," Jared said.

"Sure," Jensen agreed. "Listen, the guys at Kripke's made a couple extra pies tonight. Usually I take them home for my roommate, he eats like a human vacuum cleaner, but you guys want one of them?"

Jared agreed and took the pizza box, running toward the house when he heard more bangs and yelling. Way to ruin the mood, siblings.

*/*/*/* __

_See what I mean about Jensen, my pet reader? He's just adorable. Rescues the carless and hungry, and likes turtles._

*/*/*/*

Jared was getting better at faking it at work, or at least he thought so. He'd figured out the first week that the company made educational games, not the popular games that he and his friends played. Most of their sales were to tutoring companies and school districts, not kids. But the job was still OK, and his boss was pretty cool, for an old dude.

Jared was frowning down at the computer, wondering what the hell a "meeting rescheduling request" was - did that mean they wanted to reschedule a meeting, or meet about rescheduling, he wondered to himself, or maybe meet about requests for rescheduling meetings? Brock had been sending him texts for the last half-hour, complaining about the lack of food in the house and whatever other irritations he could come up with, and he'd been writing him back tersely. "Hold ur horses k, get paid Friday," he thumb-typed out, pressed send, and laid his phone down down on his desk with a sigh. If he didn't get this report put together before the staff meeting in an hour, Jeff would kick his ass.

A cleared throat caught his attention, and he looked up to see a man with slicked-back hair standing at the entrance to his cubicle. "Hello?"

"Yeah, hi," the other man said, and Jared disliked him instantly. There was just something *smarmy* about his tone. "I need a copy of the QRF projections and fast," he demanded.

Jared's phone beeped again, and he resisted rolling his eyes. "Ur fault if kids eat ea other," it read, as he looked down. Jesus, Brock needed to lay off on the creepy horror movies. And the pot, but that went without saying.

"Um, *hello*," the guy said, sounding pissed off.

Jared thought of apologizing, and then thought again. Who the hell did this guy think he was, anyway? "OK, first off, what's your name, and why are you here?"

The other man looked offended that Jared didn't know who he was. "I'm Chad Murray. Head accounting clerk?" he continued, as if that would remind Jared that he should have known already. "I need the QRF projections, like I said."

"OK, Chad," Jared said dryly. "I'm Jared, I'm Jeff Morgan's new project manager, and I'm in the middle of about five mission-critical things for the Edutainment project which are very time-sensitive. I'll look for the QRF projections as soon as I get a chance, and when I find them, I'll send you an email, all right?"

Chad visibly deflated, as if he couldn't believe someone had called him on his shit. "Well, um… I guess that's OK, yeah. Thanks, man."

"Sure, no problem," Jared said with a chirpiness he didn't feel, and turned back to his computer as Chad turned and walked out of the cubicle. His phone beeped again, and Jared cursed and shoved it back in his pocket without looking at the display. Brock would just have to wait. Jeff - and the people at the staff meeting - sure weren't going to.

Jeff came into his cubicle. "Hey, Jared, can you get some sandwiches for the meeting later? You can use the petty cash, just get a receipt."  
"Uh, petty cash?"

So Jeff explained, and gave him a key to the cash box, which was not so stealthily hidden in the bottom drawer of the file cabinet. It was full of crisp twenties. Jared looked left and right, and took a handful. He'd pay it back just as soon as he got paid, but at least now the kids would have something to eat.

*/*/*/*

_Dear, oh dear. I know what you're thinking, cherished reader: our hero has fallen! His virtue has been compromised! Don't panic, he's only flirting with the dark side temporarily. He is planning to pay back the money, but he has no experience with FICA deductions and Social Security exemptions and all the things the government likes to take out of our paychecks (speaking of evil). What's more, he has three siblings who are very good at sneaking into his room when he's in the shower and taking money out of his wallet. More on this later._

*/*/*/*

Jared had to hurry home from work in order to get ready for his date - _or was it a date? Jensen wasn't clear, but one dude didn't usually ask another dude to watch turtles mating if it wasn't a date, right? Oh god, what if turtle mating was some code for a weird sex act Jared's never heard of? Jensen's in college, he might be into kinky shit, right?_

Jared forced himself to calm down and breathe. Jensen wasn't that kind of guy, and it would be fine. Just fine. Right?

Jensen arrived on time, and they drove to a lake a few minutes away. Dusk was beginning to fall, and they sat on rocks near the shore as Jensen tried to explain the whole turtle thing (which was not gay code, Jared was relieved to learn). There was some rustling, and a few indistinct shapes, and then a few minutes later it was dark and quiet.

"Well, that was … something," Jared said. He still wasn't sure what he'd just seen.

"Wasn't it amazing?," Jensen exulted.

"Uh, yeah," Jared replied.

Jensen turned toward him and started laughing. "You're totally bullshitting me, aren't you?"

"Sorry," Jared said. "It just happened so fast, and it was dark, and all I could really see was a bunch of turtles wandering around for a while."

"Well, that's pretty much it," Jensen agreed. "I just think it's cool, how they come do this every year, and go through so much effort, and it's like they just know what beach to go to, just like their parents and grandparents did."

Jared smiled at Jensen's enthusiasm and reached down to grab Jensen's hand. "I'm glad you asked me to come, Jensen."

Jensen squeezed Jared's hand, and they walked back to Jensen's car hand in hand.

*/*/*/*

_So, charming reader, Jared's got a great job and an awesome maybe-boyfriend; what more could he hope for? Of course, his brothers and sister are embezzling from him and he's way over his head at work, but you can't have everything, am I right?_

*/*/*/*

A few days later, Jared is thinking about Jensen as he puts some papers on Jeff's desk and turns around, only to find his way blocked by a dark-haired woman in glasses and a button-front shirt snug on her chest, and a skirt that showed most of her legs.

"Well, hello there, stretch," she said, looking him up and down. "I don't think we've met; I'm Lauren Graham." She held out a hand.

He shook it carefully. "Uh, hi. I'm Jared, Jeff's new assistant PM." He smiled neutrally.

She held on to his hand, stepping closer to him. "Isn't Jeff a lucky duck then?"

"I'd say I'm the lucky one. Listen, nice to meet you, gotta go." Jared pulled his hand out of Lauren's and stepped around her, walking quickly out of Jeff's cubicle and down the hall.

Minutes later his phone buzzed, and he excused himself to Sandy in order to answer it. It isn't a number he recognizes. "Hello?"

"Mr. Padalecki? This is St. David's Hospital. Your son Colin's been injured."

"My son? Oh, um, yeah, my son Colin, right. Is he OK?"

~

Jared reached out and smacked Brock upside the head as soon as the nurse bustled away. "Dude, what the fuck?"

"Dude, I'm sorry! Colin said something sciency about testing the wind shear whatever-the-fuck, but I didn't know he was gonna climb up onto the roof and then fall off!," Brock said, glaring back (or trying to, but the wideness of his eyes made it clear he was having a hard time not giggling).

"He'll be all right, right," Sierra asked, looking anxious.

"Yeah, honey, he'll be fine, the nurse said they just have to finish putting on his cast and then he can come home," Jared replied, giving the little girl a hug. She smelled of chlorine and Pixy Stix.

After Colin returned in a wheelchair, his left leg in a bright green cast, they wheeled him out to the parking lot, where Sandy had been nice enough to drive Jared to the hospital and then stick around to give them a ride. Brock tried to hit on her, which Sandy nicely fobbed aside, and after Jared elbowed him in the kidney, Brock cut it out. Colin entertained them the rest of the ride home by explaining the experiment he was trying to attempt on the roof.

"No more going up to the roof," Jared said firmly.

"Science knows no boundaries," Colin retorted.

"You do, now that you're in a cast," Jared replied. "Your experiment can wait until you get it off, right?"

Colin grumpily agreed, and Jared thanked his stars - their mom will be back by then, and she can deal with her science-crazy son. He's not cut out for this parenting thing.

*/*/*/*  
 _Jared's wrong about that, by the way, alluring reader, but that's a few years from now. Right now he's just figuring out how to have a boyfriend._  
  
*/*/*/*

So far his first real date with Jensen was going pretty well, Jared thought. They'd gotten burgers at one of Austin's most popular spots, and then Jensen had suggested a walk around the shopping area they were in. The evening was still warm, but a cooling breeze helped dissipate the worst of the humidity.

"Ice cream?", Jensen asked, as they approached an Amy's Ice Cream.

"God, maybe later," Jared said, rubbing his stomach. "I'm still stuffed."

"I told you that both fries and onion rings were a bad idea," Jensen said humorously.

"But they were so *good*," Jared replied.

"Oh, the teenage metabolism," Jensen said. "Just wait, one day it'll start catching up to you."

"Please, *old man*, you look pretty good to me," Jared said, rolling his eyes.

"Pretty good, that's it? That's all I get?", Jensen teased.

They turned to face each other. "Very good, how 'bout that?" Jared said, eyeing Jensen head to toe. They shared a heated look for a moment before they both remembered they were in the middle of a public sidewalk. Jensen coughed, dropped his eyes, and started walking again.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, the snatches of other conversations drifting by as other groups and couples walked past, enjoying the summer evening. Jared wondered if he should feel awkward, but he just felt happy and excited, the proximity of Jensen's arm to his filling him with a fizzy joy.

"So you said you've got an internship this summer, right?," he finally asked Jensen, when the feeling of anticipation got too much. "You're not just delivering pizzas?"

"Yeah, through the Bio department at school," Jensen said. "20 hours a week."

"So what do you actually do? Look at stuff under the microscope, or what?"

"Nah, it's a field internship. We're studying local riparian ecology."

"'Riparian'?"

"Rivers," Jensen replied. "We're doing research on local river ecosystems, trying to figure out some of the predator-prey patterns. This week we've been counting snakes."

"Snakes? Like poisonous and stuff?'

Jensen shrugged. "Some are, but most aren't."

"You're careful, though, right?" Oh god, way to sound like a clinging damsel, dude, Jared thought.

"Yeah, man, I'm careful," Jensen said, reaching down to squeeze his hand quickly.

"Well, good," Jared said. "The kids would revolt if their favorite pizza guy disappeared," he said lightly.

Thankfully Jensen made no comment on Jared's conversational about-face. He started telling a story about Kripke's recent craziness at the pizza place, and Jared breathed a sigh of relief. A few minutes later they walked past a pet store, still open at this late hour. Jared stopped, smiling at the young litter of dogs in a large box next to the window. "Look, Jen, puppies!" He made funny faces at the dogs, waving at them through the window, and he heard Jensen chuckle.

"Let's go in," the other man suggested.

"Oh, no…." Jared's protests were ignored as Jensen grabbed his hand and pulled him along through the door. It jingled as they walked in, but there were no employees in sight.

*/*/*/* __

_Here, prized reader, I will have to ask your indulgence and ask you to imagine a montage yet again. Jared and Jensen frolicking in the pet store to a soundtrack of romantic strumming and a soulful lyric. Puppies being played with, kittens petted, fish faces made at fish… you get the idea, I trust. The montage ends with a beleaguered pet store employee asking our adorable couple to leave, and they do, laughing and holding hands._

*/*/*/*

Jared had noticed the mood at work becoming more and more dispirited. Clumps of employees always seemed to be discussing something depressing, judging from the scowls and the nervous glances around. Sandy had told him that the sales figures for the Edutainment project were lower than projected. But he was still surprised when Jeff called him into his office one Wednesday afternoon.

"The project's canceled, Jared. Our entire department's probably going to get laid off or restructured. Maybe sent to the Tulsa office," Jeff said, pinching his nose with one hand.

"Tulsa? I can't go to Tulsa," Jared said stupidly.

"Don't worry. You're young, with a great background. You'll get a new gig right away," Jeff said. "It's the nature of the beast with software companies, I'm afraid."

Jeff waved him away and Jared wandered the floor with a blank expression. What was he supposed to do now? He still needed to pay back the petty cash, which seemed to disappear from his wallet a lot faster than made sense from the groceries he'd bought. Oh god, he was gonna be arrested and sent to jail!

To distract himself, he sat down at the computer and looked over the partially-finished Edutainment tool. It wasn't bad, really; it looked like a real game even if all it did was teach you spelling and what 2 times 2 was. He fiddled with some of the components, and then he had an idea. What if they made it into a real game, a game kids would actually want to play, even when they weren't in school? They had the pieces from their older software, they just had to combine them in the right way and make it look cool and up-to-date. He ran to Jeff's office and yanked open the door. "Jeff, I have an idea!"

Jeff was doubtful at first, but after Jared explained in more detail, he became enthused. "Jared, this could save our jobs! Write up your notes, and set up a meeting with everyone for first thing tomorrow."

~

Jensen texted a couple times that night - they usually talked in-between Jensen's pizza deliveries - but Jared was too busy fleshing out his plans (he'd bribed Colin to let him use his laptop for the evening with a packet of Mentos and some Coke) to reply. Guiltily, he texted back the next morning, but then he was too busy for several days, what with all the plans. Suddenly it was the weekend, and Jared realized that he hadn't heard from Jensen in a while. He called, and left a message, but Jensen never called back.

*/*/*/*

_Let this be a lesson to you, affectionate reader - don't stop talking to your significant other, even if you are busy. They'll get ticked, trust me._

*/*/*/*

Jensen finally called Jared back, but when Jared tried to propose doing something, Jensen said he had other plans. Then he said he had to work, and hung up. Jared felt awful, but he didn't know what to do. Should he keep bugging Jensen, or leave him alone for a while?

He headed to Colin's room to ask his advice (Sierra was at swim practice, and Brock was no good, what with being high most of the time and hungover the rest). His eyes bugged out when he saw the test tubes and Bunsen burners that Colin had set up on his desk. "Where did this come from, dude?"

Colin looked a bit shifty. "Uh…."

"Seriously, did you win another award? Is this stuff supposed to be in someone's bedroom, anyway? You're not gonna catch the house on fire, are you?" Jared poked a finger at a blue foamy-looking thing.

"Don't touch that. And I got it from petty cash. Brock said it was OK."

"What?"

~

The fight with Brock that resulted - turns out he'd bought his friends a lot of munchies and Sierra had gotten new swim gear, the expensive kind, along with Colin's science stuff - and the realization that the petty cash was pretty much gone sent Jared into a panic. How was he going to explain it all to Jeff? Even if he didn't get laid off, his salary for the rest of the summer would barely cover the difference. He didn't know what else to do, so he spent a lot of time at work, helping put together the new game demo. It was looking pretty awesome, actually; it was the only part of his life that didn't suck. Jensen still wasn't talking to him, and neither were his brothers or sister, after he'd told them off for spending all the money. So Jared worked, and that's how most of the rest of the summer went.

*/*/*/*

_Captivating reader, are you anxious about Jared? Me too. He's not very happy right now. (If it comforts you, imagine a brief montage of Jared working, consulting with coworkers, frowning at a computer monitor and decisively clicking buttons, gazing moodily at his silent phone, all set to an emo soundtrack.) But he's a hero, remember. Things will look up soon. I hope._

*/*/*/*

Jeff smiled as the presentation on the progress of the video game ended. "Looks great, guys," he said to the group. "I was thinking we should have some kind of launch party to celebrate the new game. Invite all the tech journalists and bloggers, that sort of thing, get some good press for the company. The higher-ups have been nice enough to give us a couple additional months to work on this, but if the initial sales aren't good enough, we're just as screwed as we were a month ago."

Everyone in the room had suggestions for what they could do - river cruise, rent out a hotel ballroom, sponsor a roller derby team (that was Adrienne's contribution; she was a member of a local roller derby team, and she was hardcore; Jared had gone to one of her matches, and it had been insane).

"What do you think, Jared?", Jeff asked. "We should have enough money in petty cash to pay for something, right?"

Shit. "Um, sure," Jared said, thinking quickly. "But I have an idea. Why not have it at my house? There's plenty of room, and it'll give it a homegrown, authentic feel. You'll love it."

After a few grumbles (Adrienne was still in favor of the roller derby idea) everyone agreed to Jared's idea. Jared couldn't help but think that was because that meant that Jared would have to organize the whole thing, and none of them would have to do any work.

When Jared got home that evening, the house looked even crappier than usual. Empty packets and dirty dishes covered the kitchen. The sofa was covered in magazines and old chip bags, and was that Colin's pajama pants underneath a cushion?

*/*/*/*  
 _Time for another montage, gorgeous reader! Jared convinces his siblings that unless they help him clean up the house and prepare for the event, he'll get sent to jail and they'll all get in big trouble with their mom (the latter threat having more currency than the former, sadly). Colin and Sierra are deputized to clean, and Brock agrees to cook the hors d'oeurves as he's apparently become a bit of a chef thanks to all those pot-related hunger pains - who would have thought? Rugs are vacuumed, throw pillows are fluffed, dishes are scrubbed, the back yard is mowed, and Brock's stoner friend Finn even carves an ice sculpture (without cutting off any limbs, his or anyone else's)._  
  
*/*/*/*

It's the evening of the big launch party, and Jared is nervous as fuck. They barely finished cleaning up the house, last he'd heard they were still coding the game, but Sandy had promised to get the guys set up with a computer and a projector in time for the presentation. And Jensen called, but Jared has no time to call him back; he has to settle for a quick text promising to call later before getting dressed to welcome his guests.

"This looks great, Jared," Jeff said, shaking his hand. "Thanks for all your hard work." He headed off to schmooze with a local dignitary, and Jared can finally breathe for a minute. The house does look amazing all dolled up, and the back yard is nice with all the twinkling lights.

The guests seem to be enjoying it anyway. They mill around, eating Brock's appetizers and drinking the wine Jared had found in the basement. Colin's holding court at the drinks table, pouring and discussing the chemical attributes of wine. Sierra's circulating with a tray of food, and, thanks to Jared's bribe, wearing an actual dress.

And then of course that's when things have to get a bit awkward. Jared is in the kitchen to grab some more food, and suddenly Lauren is right up in his face. He turns around to figure out which appetizers Brock intended to go out next, barely listening to Lauren's seductive patter. He's heard it all summer long, and he's sick of it. He would have told her off long ago, but she's Jeff's girlfriend, and he didn't want his boss to find out what she was really like.

"So, what about it, stud? I'll show you what an experienced woman can do," Lauren purred.

Jared rolled his eyes behind Lauren's back. She seemed entirely unable to take a hint. Or a bluntly-worded refusal. "Lauren, I'm just not interested," he said again. She stepped forward as he grabbed a tray of hors d'oeurves, and the tray flipped toward her. A bunch of deviled egg looking things fell straight onto Lauren's silk blouse.

"Son of a bitch," she said, and stomped to the sink to grab a dishcloth to wipe away the egg. She pulled off her blouse and stood there in her lacy bra, while Jared tried not to look. Of course that was the point at which Jeff walked in.

"What's going on?," he asked, looking between them.

"Seems like Jared has a little thing for me," Lauren said. "I said I wasn't interested, but…" She fluttered her lashes at Jeff.

"What!," Jared said indignantly. "You're the one who won't take no for an answer. Jeff," he said, turning toward the older man," she's been hitting on me since I started at the company. I didn't want to tell you because I knew how much you liked her."

"Who you gonna believe, Jeff, me, or some kid?," Lauren said with a fierce light in her eyes.

Jeff was silent for a minute. "I think I'm going to believe some kid."

The three of them stood in a frozen tableau for a few moments. "Jeff, I'm sorry," Jared offered.

"Let's just get the launch over with, OK? There are reporters out there," Jeff said, and turned heel and walked back out to the party.

Lauren growled in frustration and headed off in the other direction. Jared blew out a breath and picked up another tray of food before heading outside.

*/*/*/*  
 _Bewitching reader, I bet you're thinking that's the last problem Jared will have this evening. Ha! Of course you aren't. You're much more intelligent than that. But I suspect that everything will work out OK in the end. I could be wrong, though… Just kidding._  
  
*/*/*/*

Sandy and the engineers showed up just in time, the projector required only a little fiddling, and Jared started his narration of the game presentation. Glad I took that public speaking class last year, Jared thought wryly, trying not to stumble over the technical words. He made it almost to the end - oohs and aahs from the crowd buoying him up - when a noise comes from the front of the house that grows louder and louder. Is that… Metallica? Being played from a car stereo?

The rumbling of Jensen's Impala is unmistakable as he drives around to the backyard, his windows open. "I have to talk to you, Jared," he calls, before he sees the projector beaming onto the painted fence, and the wide-eyed group of guests sitting near the trees. "What's going on?"

Jared doesn't know what to say, but suddenly the microphone is grabbed from his other side. Is that creepy Chad from Accounting, along with Danneel the bitchy receptionist? What the hell?

Chad yanks the microphone away. "This is all a sham," he yells. "This kid's only eighteen!" Danneel is at his side, nodding. She waves a piece of paper - how did they get a copy of his learner's permit? "It's all true," she shouts.

The crowd started to talk as Jeff came up to the small group. "What's going on, Jared?" Jensen had gotten out of his car and was also heading Jared's way with a confused look.

Jared opened his mouth with no clue what to say - to anyone - when he's interrupted by another voice. "Jared Tristan Padalecki, what is going on here?" His mother stood silhouetted in the open doorway to the house, looking furious. "Are you having a party? You are so grounded."

_Shit_.

*/*/*/*

_And here is the clearest illustration of Jared's heroism: he confesses the truth. He calms down his mom, apologizes to his boss, and tells his boyfriend he misses him, and that he's sorry he was so secretive. And once he's done confessing all, he helps the guests find their coats and their cars and cleans up the backyard._

*/*/*/*

Jared approached Jeff carefully, even though he looked less angry than he had earlier. "Jeff, I am so fuckin' sorry. I just needed a summer job, and you were so awesome and I started getting into all the games and systems, and the whole thing just got this life of its own. And now I've screwed up your launch."

"It's OK, Jared," Jeff replied. "The store execs don't care about that scene. In fact, they think I'm a genius for hiring a teenager to get an insight into what games teenagers like."

One of Brock's friends pulled up with Jeff's Jeep. Jeff took the keys from him. "Listen, come in next week, we'll grab a burger, you can tell me all about it, and your plans."  


Jared nodded. His head was spinning. Plans? He had no idea.

Jeff clasped him on the shoulder. "I think you should talk to your boy." He nodded in front of him. Jared turned around to see Jensen sitting on a bench on the edge of the garden, looking unusually uncomfortable.

Jared dimly heard the sound of Jeff's truck pulling away as he walked toward Jensen. What do I say? "Uh, hey."

"I guess you *were* doing something important with your time, huh?," Jensen said.

Jared shrugged. "Not really, it's just video games."

"Did you design the one that was showing up on the big screen?"

"I came up with some of the ideas, but the engineers actually made it all work," Jared demurred.

"Still. It's pretty impressive, man," Jensen said, looking straight at him.

Jared ducked his head. "Thanks."

They were silent for a few moments. "I missed you, Jared," Jensen said softly.

Jared looked up. "I missed you too."

They shared a glance. "Maybe we could…," Jared said hopefully, and leaned forward. Jensen smiled softly and met him halfway. They shared a sweet kiss. Jared was just thinking about going for something a bit less restrained when they were interrupted by his mom.

"One last thing, JT," she called from the open door of the house.

"Yeah, mom?"

"Where's the babysitter?"

 


End file.
